The kine unguided went
By the directest road;
When the Philistines homeward sent
The ark of Israel's God.
Lowing they passed along,
And left their calves shut up;
They felt an instinct for their young,
But would not turn or stop.
Shall brutes, devoid of thought,
Their Maker's will obey;
And we, who by his grace are taught,
More stubborn prove than they?
He shed his precious blood
To make us his alone;
If washed in that atoning flood
We are no more our own.
If he his will reveal,
Let us obey his call;
And think whate'er the flesh may feel,
His love deserves our all.
We should maintain in view
His glory, as our end;
Too much we cannot bear, or do,
For such a matchless friend.
His saints should stand prepared
In duty's path to run;
Nor count their greatest trials hard,
So that his will be done.
With Jesus for our guide,
The path is safe though rough
The promise says, I will provide,
And faith replies, Enough!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem